


XF Friday Nights 8: Ice Capades

by ML_is_me



Series: XF Friday Nights [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, XF Friday Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 01:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10889169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_is_me/pseuds/ML_is_me
Summary: Whose agenda was being followed?  Reading between the lines of the episode.





	XF Friday Nights 8: Ice Capades

The Federal Grounds Coffee Shop seemed like an odd place to meet, but   
for some reason, Nancy didn't want to come to his hotel. Since Hodge   
was attending a conference at GWU and this was on the way, he supposed   
it was as good a place as any.

The place wasn't terribly crowded on a weekday mid- morning. Most   
tables were empty, and the line to order was short. He spotted her at   
a table near the window, staring out at the passersby. She looked   
okay, nothing out of the ordinary. Her hair was the same length and   
color, and she wasn't dressed any differently than before. He felt a   
slight lessening of tension. He wasn't sure what he'd expected until   
she showed up.

He ordered his coffee and walked over to the table. She didn't look   
up as he set his coffee cup down and took off his jacket.

"Good to see you, DaSilva." Hodge sat down opposite her.

"Is it?" She took a sip of her coffee.

That was an odd response. Something was different about her. She'd   
always been high-strung and emotional. Now, he wouldn't call it high   
strung so much as watchful.

Maybe there were more far-reaching effects from the parasite than they   
knew. Or maybe it had to do with the way she was treated in   
quarantine.

"Clean bill of health?" Hodge asked as he sat.

"If I said no, would you get up and leave?" She didn't look as though   
she cared one way or another; only the words were   
somewhat...provocative.

Hodge was not a man in the habit of thinking about or worrying over   
how other people were feeling, but they'd been through an ordeal   
together. And, once upon a time, they both had cared very much about   
each other.

"Of course not," he said. "Just asking." He knew if there'd really   
been anything wrong with her, they'd never have let her out. That's   
how those government agencies worked. And in this case, he agreed   
with them.

She shrugged. "You could have come and visited me, but you never did.   
You could have seen for yourself. There were a lot of blood draws,   
and some tests, and some interviews about what happened -- at -- up   
there."

"Interviews?" Although he was sure that there were reports on all of   
them, he was curious. Did she talk to anyone different? "Who   
interviewed you? Mulder?"

"No. Why would he? More likely someone'd want to interview him.   
Dana Scully tried to visit, though."

"She tried? They wouldn't let her in?"

"I -- I wasn't in a condition to see her when she came. I was told   
after. Dana wrote me a note."

"A note. That's an unusual technique. Did you have to submit a   
report in return? Or did she say she'd wait until you were out of   
quarantine to debrief you?"

"She sent a get-well card," Nancy said. "Nothing else."

"It's a nice softening-up technique, I suppose," Hodge said. "It   
might work on someone like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she bristled. "Did it occur to you   
that she was just trying to be nice?"

"Why? What would it get her?" he asked. "Agents Mulder and Scully   
were sent up there. Do you think she checked her FBI badge at the   
door after it was over? That she wasn't still trying to get to the   
bottom of -- whatever happened up there? That's just the kind of   
tactic the FBI would employ. Get a female agent to soften you up,   
confide in her, and then you'll never hear from her again."

"Maybe sometimes it's the thought that counts," DaSilva said. "But   
you've never really thought of anyone but yourself, have you?"

"I thought we'd already gotten over that. The decision to break up   
was mutual," Hodge protested. "We thought it was best, since we were   
working together --"

"_You_ thought," DaSilva said. "No one else seemed to care."

"You never know who's taking note of things like that. I didn't want   
our research grant endangered in any way."

"And that's why you agreed that we should go up to that place?   
Because appearances were so important?"

"I did think it might affect our grant status," Hodge said. "I   
thought it was important that we show willingness to cooperate. And   
how often does the opportunity come along to study something like   
that, completely unknown?"

"Yes, it was very successful, wasn't it?" Nancy replied   
sarcastically. "Did you publish your findings?"

"There were no final findings, as you probably know," Hodge said.   
"The reports were suppressed. The research station was destroyed."

"I didn't know," she snapped. "But then, I've been in quarantine for   
the past month. Are you telling me you didn't save your notes or   
anything?"

"Notes aren't much help if the objects of the study no longer exist,"   
he replied. "We had to leave in a hurry, when transport came. You'd   
pretty much trashed the lab -- and Agent Scully made sure that no one   
went near any of the places where there was a trace of the organism.   
There was no time to try and gather anything up."

"So it's my fault, then," she said. "Of course it is. Nothing bad   
that ever happened is your fault."

"It certainly wasn't my fault you were infected," he huffed. "How   
_did_ you get infected, anyway?"

"I guess we'll never know," she said. "Since all the research and   
evidence was destroyed."

"They didn't tell you? You're a toxicologist. You didn't ask?"

"All I wanted," she said angrily, "was to get out of there as soon as   
they would let me."

"So the FBI didn't question you?" he asked calmly. In another   
situation he might have dropped the subject once he'd seen her   
agitation, but this was too important to him.

"I don't know who questioned me," she continued. "I didn't keep   
track. The CDC, the NIH, probably the FBI or the USAMRID, or the   
USGS, or whoever was in charge of the project. I told them all the   
same thing, and since you seem to want to know it so much, I'll tell   
you, too: I don't know how I got infected. I don't know when the   
symptoms started manifesting themselves, or what they were. _I don't   
remember!_"

Her voice had gotten high and shrill, and some of the coffee house   
patrons turned around to see what was happening. Hodge sat and stared   
at her, willing her to calm herself down. She stifled a sob and   
gulped some of her coffee.

"Sorry to bring it up," he murmured.

He sipped his coffee, waiting for her to get control of herself. The   
other patrons lost interest. Nancy dabbed at her eyes and sniffed a   
little.

"Do you ever stop thinking conspiracy?" she asked. "Do you ever look   
beyond the credentials to the person? Being FBI defines her to you,   
doesn't it? You can't be bothered to look past that badge."

"I think it takes a certain mentality to belong to the FBI, yes,"   
Hodge replied. "And you don't shed that at the end of the day."

"You heard her arguing with Agent Mulder same as I did," Nancy said.   
"She was against even staying up there, and she wanted to destroy the   
organism."

"Yeah, sure. I think it was a case of 'good cop, bad cop' if you ask   
me. Why would they have let us overhear them otherwise?"

"Sometimes people argue because they care about something. But I know   
you don't like to argue," she conceded. "You just like to be right."

"And you know, it's funny how often I am," he said. "Don't be   
surprised if Agent Scully comes knocking on your door someday soon   
with a pint of ice cream -- and her badge."

"It would more likely be Agent Mulder who'd want to know -- and more   
for his own reasons than for the Bureau's," she replied.

"Oh, did you two have a thing going on that I didn't notice?" he asked   
a little snidely. "When we found him with Denny's body, was he on his   
way to your room? Or, maybe on his way back? Maybe _he_ infected   
_you_, did you think about that?"

"Where in hell did you get that idea?" she bridled.

"It's a fair question. He seems like the type who might try to charm   
something out of you. He seems to have Agent Scully fooled."

"You really are clueless, you know? You decide what's what, you're   
all tidy with your conspiracy theories, and you don't look any   
further. You're perfectly happy to take the government's money, and   
grouse about their agenda, but you'll never do a thing about it."

"You're certainly entitled to your opinion," he said, refusing to be   
drawn into an argument. "So, when are you coming back to work?"

"I start next week," she said, not commenting on his sudden change of   
topic. She seemed as glad to drop the subject as he was. In fact,   
she smiled.

"Good. I've been delaying the running of some protocols until your   
return."

"Oh, I'm not coming back to _your_ lab," she said. "I have a   
fellowship. The Rousch Chair at Georgia Tech."

"Ooh, right in the backyard of the CDC. So _that's_ what you were   
doing in quarantine: applying for jobs?" He knew his accusing tone   
might set her off again. He rather hoped it would.

"No, I was approached." For the first time in their meeting, DaSilva   
seemed on sure ground. "You might be suspicious, but I see it as an   
opportunity to get back to the kind of research I prefer, instead of   
working in a lab with a megalomaniac who pits lab assistants against   
each other and who is always spouting off conspiracy theories but is   
too afraid to do anything about it."

Wow. She must have been holding that in for a while. Hodge was   
silent for a few moments. Then he said merely, "Why did you tell me   
in person? Did you think I'd try to talk you out of it? I won't, you   
know. It sounds like a great opportunity, and I think it's time you   
moved on. You could just as easily have called, or not said anything   
at all to me, just let me find out when you didn't show up for work."

"I did it out of professional courtesy. Although it seems that's   
something you know nothing about," she snapped, and stood up.   
Automatically Hodge stood up too. "Good luck, Dr. Hodge." She turned   
and walked out of the coffee shop.

Hodge resumed his seat and stayed for a while, sipping at his lukewarm   
coffee. He thought over their little encounter. Any out of character   
behavior interested him. DaSilva was not generally a confrontational   
person. If she lost her temper, she almost always apologized, even if   
it wasn't her fault. It must have been cathartic for her to come in   
person to blow him off. Maybe someone had encouraged her to do so.   
Maybe she'd been in touch with that Scully woman, who certainly had no   
trouble telling people off. He dismissed what she said about him   
personally; he hardly ever listened when she or anyone else talked   
like that.

He glanced at his watch. He didn't want to be late for his lecture.

If anyone asked him what had happened to his former partner, he'd   
shrug and say that he'd heard that she was still under observation   
after the unfortunate incident at Icy Cape. He might have died up   
there; the whole lab knew that, but didn't know much else, since he'd   
indicated he didn't want to talk about it. When the word got out that   
she'd been offered a research fellowship, all he'd have to do is roll   
his eyes and mutter something like "lab rat," and that would be that.

After that it wouldn't much matter what happened to Nancy DaSilva, and   
his reputation would not be damaged in the least. And that was just   
the way he liked it. Rousch paid him a tidy sum to do what he did.   
Killing Denny hadn't been pleasant, but it wasn't the worst thing he'd   
ever done, and it created plenty of suspicion and distrust among the   
survivors. Once he'd set the two FBI agents against each other, the   
rest was easy.

Of course, he hadn't counted on Nancy being collateral damage, but   
those were the fortunes of war. Things could have gone much worse   
than they had. Luckily for the two agents, Dana Scully was bent on   
the destruction of the facility too. He'd heard that she wasn't that   
easily controlled, but at least she was no dummy. She knew when she   
was in over her head. The same couldn't be said for Agent Mulder.   
He'd never know how close he'd come.

*end*

**Author's Note:**

> Hodge seemed more paranoid than Mulder, and who knew that was   
> possible? He was also a superior so-and-so who seemed to delight in   
> pitting one person against another -- and yet he stood above the fray.   
> It seemed to me that he was happy to get others to do the dirty work.   
> And in the end, he seemed awfully cavalier about his colleague who was   
> heading into quarantine. But it wasn't until I started writing that   
> it occurred to me that Hodge might have had an agenda, besides being a   
> horse's ass.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I've mentioned before that I think this ep would fit fairly neatly   
> into the conspiracy arc, what with the critters in the ice and the   
> black oily looking stuff and all. I'm pretty sure no one on the show   
> was thinking that far ahead when "Ice" was written, but they might   
> have gone back and said, "Hey! Black Oiliens! Yeah, that'll work!"


End file.
